Forty Four to Four
by midsummersunshine
Summary: It's just another day on Moby Dick when Whitebeard found out that his first mate mysteriously turned into a four years old toddler. Things are getting messier when he pointed Thatch and Ace as Marco's babysitter. Wait, what...?
1. It Just Marco, Only Smaller

**Title: **Forty-Four to Four

**Rating: **K

**Warning: **Grammar error as usual. Age-bending. No pairing, just Marco/Ace/Thatch bromance.

**Disclaimer: **Eichiiro Oda

**This is an AU - OP world but different timeline. Thatch had eaten his Devil Fruit, so Ace didn't need to chase Teach and thus, Ace and Papahige aren't dead. I'm just going to leave that fact here.**

**Based on chat RP with Hilian. Gonna update irregularly along with my other fics. Yes you may spank me for posting new fics instead of write the updates.**

**Plot bunnies everywharrr~ *headlaptops***

—

**Chapter 1: It Just Marco, Only Smaller**

**.**

It started with a high-pitched ear-splitting shriek from the commander's cabin over the Moby Dick, the Whitebeard Pirate's flagship, in the morning just before the sun climbed up the sky. The shriek, unsurprisingly, had wakened the entire Whitebeard's fleet —even the seagulls which nested on the top on each ships' masts. Even the nurses.

Even Whitebeard himself.

Surprisingly, it came from the notoriously Whitebeard Pirates' First Division Commander's room.

No one ever dared to get closer to Marco's room, despite being curious of what on Mother Sea's sake happened. Not even Thatch as his closest buddy. Not even Ace whose never gave a fuck about everything. None. Except, of course, the captain of the ship, Whitebeard himself, a.k.a The Mightiest Man In The World, whose pissed off to the boot because having his sleep interrupted.

Long story short, Whitebeard knocked the room's door flat to the floor before he gaped, stared blankly to the bed where the source of the problem was laying on the bed, staring back to him.

It was just Marco, only smaller.

•


	2. Yes, Confirmed As Marco

**Just a quick update. Thank you readers for taking your time to read and reviewing. I didn't expect that you'll be interested in this ^^**

**For you who asked if Marco's age is 44, I'm just guessing it. Watch Episode 0: Strong World and you'll know that Marco is at least 40 years old.**

**Also repeat: Thatch had eaten his Yami Yami no Mi / Darkness Fruit. Enough said.**

—

**Chapter 2: Yes, Confirmed As Marco**

.

The sun peeked lazily behind the cloud, hanging low on the very early morning sky, as Whitebeard held an emergency meeting, attended by his fifteen commanders. Their First Division Commander was currently out of question.

Thatch stood amongst the gathering people —watching amusedly to the boy which frighteningly had too many resemblances with the younger form of Marco. Blonde tuft of hair, fluffy on the top of the head, but almost nothing on its side. Full, pouty lips. Only no stubble, no tattoo, and no well shaped body.

The said boy was flailing and thrashing brutally in Jozu's grip. Thatch could tell from the boy's face that he was clearly frightened. He was shrieking, wailing, doing almost anything to let go, even going way too far with… biting. Yep, no mistaking it. The boy was biting Jozu's finger, resulting with more painful wail from the boy as the Third Division Commander reflexively turned his finger into diamond. The wail made Thatch cringed, but didn't move an inch at all.

"What's it, what's it?" Ace whose came just a little bit late popped his head curiously just above Thatch' shoulder.

The boy's struggle stopped as soon as he spotted Whitebeard on his throne. His eyes filled even more with horror, no wonder, considering the monstrous size of Whitebeard's own body. He made a sound of whimper but did quiet.

"What's yer name, brat?" Whitebeard asked in almost casual tone —but the boy got it wrong. He winced under Whitebeard's piercing eyes, whimpered, and started to go frenzy. Again.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhh, lemme goooooo! Nooooo, help me! THATCH HELP ME!" the boy wailed.

All heads turned straight to the Fourth Division Commander, leaving the pomp man blinked stupidly.

But the frightened-to-death boy were still wailing and wiggling even harder so Jozu had to drop him to the wooden deck —or else he'd strangle the boy or break his bones. Thatch had forgotten his confusion and got his attention altered to the boy that curled up like a ball in his attempt to protect himself.

Hell, whoever said that pirates —especially Whitebeard Pirates— are heartless bunch from seventh level of hell deserves punches in the gut. At least he still had his heart to feel it crunched seeing helpless little boy just before his eyes! No matter it was yet to be confirmed if the boy was his childhood sibling-like best friend or just some random boy the said best friend picked up from the street.

So Thatch strolled his way to the boy and crouched down to his eye level. The other commanders were waiting in anticipation. Even Whitebeard looked amused.

Realizing that it was suddenly quiet, the boy raised his head a bit only to meet eyes with the pomp man. He yelped and stumbled backwards. Fear was still there, but there was also something else. Thatch quirked his eyebrows, finding the glare that older-self of Marco always had in his eyes. Courage.

"W-w-where am I? W-why are you b-bringing me h-here? W-where's Thatch?" the boy strutted and yelped in high tone at the same time.

The Fourth Division Commander thought he needed to play along.

"Coincidences, my name is also Thatch", he grinned. "So say, who are _this_ Thatch to you hmm?"

"B-brother! B-but… not brother…" answered the boy, looked hesitated. "But I'm not telling you that, no way!"

"Brother but not brother? Weird boy", Thatch chuckled. Of course he knew why, but he still needed to confirm it more with the boy. "So your name?"

"Not your business!" the boy blared, face flustered in furious from the previous mock from Thatch.

More chuckles came from the other commanders, namely Haruta, Rakuyo, Ace, Fossa, and Izou.

"Not so nice, Not-Your-Business. Tell me again, what's your name", Izou strutted closer. He smiled nicely and amusedly.

"Fuck off!" curses the boy.

This caused Ace to laugh even louder.

"You know this a pirate ship, no? Try to mess with us pirates? Eh, Midget?" this time, Rakuyo loomed over the boy.

Thatch slapped his face, hard. What's wrong with these guys, teasing a hapless little boy like this?

Surrounded by three adults with scary looking appearance apparently had made whatever the boy's courage blown by the wind. Not only scary —these guys were also weirdos! Their aura were so intimidating.

So the boy did what the other boy at his age could do: cry. He scrunched his face, clearly defeated and worn off. Beads of tears started to roll down his puffy cheeks. However, he didn't wail. Only mere of faint sniffles all he could make.

"O-oi! Stop trying to mentally damage this boy!" Thatch panicked. He swoop the boy from the deck and hugged him in his arms, giving cradles and comforting pets on his head. Though the boy flinched within Thatch's arms, he still gave a nuzzle to the white shirt his face was pressed onto.

"Sorry, can't help it", Izou giggled from behind his kimono sleeve he used to cover his not-so-manly giggles.

"You guys sucks…" Thatch hissed, still cradling the boy before he looked down to the boy. The man's face softened as he showed the boy his trademark smile —warm and gentle.

"So, I suggest you to tell your name or these gits will give it to you."

The boy tried to form word, but almost failed with the amount of sniffles he made.

"Ma-rco..."

And the commotion suddenly died.

Sixteen pairs of eyes —including Whitebeard's— locked stare disbelievingly at the boy in Thatch's arms. The boy, named Marco as he said it, realized it and snuggled closer into Thatch's shirt. The Fourth Division Commander still gaped in surprise. He _did_ predicted it, but he still need proof. Moreover reasons why their First Division Commander suddenly turned into a toddler!

"S-say…" Thatch stopped. The gears in his brain rotated way too fast as he was trying to dig his memories. Proof —what kind of thing that could be used as proof that the little child in his arms indeed was Marco, their First Division Commander.

He coughed, cleared his throat before continuing.

"Say, are you a Devil Fruit user?"

This time, the boy blinked, before looking down hesitantly. Then it clicked.

"Hey, don't worry, I'm a Devil Fruit user too!" Thatch laughed awkwardly before raising an arm. He focused his mind and black gust swirled around his forefinger before it dissipated into thin air. The boy stared at him, still doubting.

So the pomp man turned on his feet to another commanders, specifically to Ace and Jozu. "H-hey, you guys show him too!"

Both commanders complied. While Jozu turned his right arm into complete shiny diamond, Ace made several tiny fireballs from his hand, which was floating calmly around. Hotarubi, while could be considered as one of Ace's deadly techniques, it was pretty safe when Ace wished to not blow it off.

The boy's eyes widened, looked to Thatch, then Jozu, then Ace, then back to Thatch again. Thinking that these guys wouldn't harm him because of his weird ability, he agreed. Blue flames flicked, then engulfed the tiny body entirely. Thatch was calm despite there was a burning flames right in his arm —he knew that Marco's flame wasn't dangerous. Then the blue flame dissipated, leaving a fluffy, light-bluish feather ball of chirping chick in place of the boy.

Mythical beast zoan, Tori Tori no Mi: Model Phoenix. Like another Devil Fruit, it was confirmed to be the only one in the world and it belonged to Marco the Phoenix, the Whitebeard Pirates' First Division Commander.

•


	3. Why Marco?

**A/N: I MADE MAJOR MISTAKE *headlaptops* Fixed it. And as apology, I'll make double update~**

**Sorry for not putting this chapter early. Hormonal instability sucks. Emotional instability sucks twice. My sugar-deprived state makes it even worse.**

**Err... Thank you for your nice comments? *blushes***

—

**Chapter 3: Why Marco? **

.

Whitebeard had dismissed most of his men to do their duties respectively. Each two commanders was sent to another fours hips in Whitebeard's fleet, and another two had to stay at Moby. One another, namely Namur, had been assigned to play with little Marco with some member from Division 1 and Division 8. Meanwhile, Top 5 commanders, minus Marco of course, gathered around their captain on the galley to discuss what to do next.

Or, that was what they were supposed to do.

Instead, they were looming over Thatch, trying to lure out explanations out of him. Because, it was more likely Marco had forgotten about his older self as he got… _shrank_. And Thatch was the only Marco's childhood friend present to explain them about their past before Whitebeard took them in. Apparently, Ace and Vista was the ones who loomed over Thatch while Jozu just stayed chill, waiting for his captain's further instruction.

"Like hell I remember what happened at that age! Count how many decades passed since that!" Thatch yelped, trying to pry off his curious brothers away from him.

"I can remember what I was doing at age five", Ace casually commented, still grinning from ear to ear.

Veins popped on the Fourth Division Captain's head.

"Your age doesn't even half mine so shut yer trap off!"

"Anyway, let's get back to the business", Whitebeard blared to cut his moronic sons' argument before this meeting out-of-tracked even further. "Thatch had said that Marco was around at age four to six. Whatever it is, doesn't matter to me. Kids are kids anyway."

"In the case if he has his memory, Jozu had suggested that it'll be okay if we call that rookie Jewelry Bonney", the humongous captain waved a wrinkled bounty poster that had the pink haired girl's face imprinted on it. "According to the information we got, Jewelry Bonney has some kind of power to turn someone's age as her wish."

"But things doesn't turn out to be like that right?" Ace cut him off.

"I see. Now we have to wonder what the cause…" Vista commented as he twirling his moustache. "Could be old curse or somewhat. Does anyone knows what he did yesterday before he went off?"

"Well, he ate dinner next to me", Ace rolled his eyes as he dug his memory, resting his hands on the back of his head so casually.

"Then working the paperwork with me", Jozu commented.

"And made report to me", Whitebeard added.

"I believe I was the last to see him. He came to drink till past midnight with me", Thatch ended.

"Nothing unusual, huh…?" Whitebeard rubbed his elongated chin.

Five persons put their hand on their own chin as they deep in though contemplating and trying to figure what the Hell happened with their _dearest_ First Division Commander. The premature silent was only to be filled with the caws of the seagulls on the top of foremast. None talked. The ship swayed.

"I KNOW!" all of sudden, Ace clapped his hands and yelled, causing the other commanders nearly jumped on their feet —well, minus Jozu who was slightly changed his usually-passive expression. Four pairs of eyes raked towards the exhibitionist fire-logia user.

"Few days ago we landed on an uninhabited island with ancient ruins right? And Kingdew said something about not to disturb the ruins because it's so old and has lotsa lotsa dark stuff we'd better not know a thing, right?" Ace chirped enthusiastically as if he just solved the law of the universe. He paused a bit, be it to make another commanders and his captain to be more curious or hesitated himself.

He just remembered that Marco threatened him to keep silent. Actually, Ace agreed, because both of them then explored the ruins to fulfill their own curiosity and to tick off Kingdew —who apparently was knowledgeable in dark arts stuff, don't ask why and how.

"So?" this time, four bigger-than-him persons loomed over him with different expressions. Thatch was excited to hear the continuation. Vista was curious. Jozu with still half-impassive expression. While Whitebeard was getting on his nerves.

Ace winced. A bit.

If Pops knew that he was the cause of Marco's transformation, Ace would be as good as dead.

"W-Well…" he twiddled his fingers and shifted his eyes. "W-We… I mean, me and Marco… explored the ruins."

Awkward silent. Even the seagulls stopped their noisy caws.

"And?" Thatch nudged his shoulder, urged him to tell more.

But apparently, Ace had nothing else to say.

"You…" Whitebeard's massive body trembled and four present commanders could feel the air quaked, causing the fire-boy to yelp in very womanly way possible while three other commanders knew they'd better to put a good range within them and their captain.

"You're an adult. I think I don't need to scold you anymore."

Ace winced as his captain threw him his not-so-subtle I'm-not-angry-just-disappointed look. He didn't like that look. None of Whitebeard's sons liked that look. Hell, why should be him to get scolded? 'Marco was the one who put himself in such situation! He was the one who had the idea to have such sort of 'explorative trip' inside the ruins!' Ace screamed mentally.

"Alright! Meeting's over", Whitebeard suddenly stood from his seat. Using his _bisento_ as leverage, he stood and ordered in detail to continue their journey to the next island and get the previous island's eternal pose.

His words were interrupted by Namur, who was panicked to death.

"Pops! Pops! Marco's missing!"

•


	4. Find Marco!

**Here's the double update I promised *woot***

—

**Chapter 4: Find Marco! **

.

The Eighth Division Commander did his best to avoid his captain's infamous I'm-not-angry-just-disappointed look. He shuffled groggily under his captain's stare before he opened his mouth, trying to narrate things about how a single four years old toddler could get lost under the eyes of a Whitebeard's division commander and about a dozen of Whitebeard's crews.

"So… you played hide and seek and you can't find him anywhere", Whitebeard huffed tiredly. It was only couple of hours their First Division Commander turned into a toddler, and they couldn't even take care of them.

The main problem here, obviously, was that every single of Whitebeard Pirates —including the captain— were free men. By any means, most of them didn't made to have any steady lovey dovey romantic thingey with any woman —moreover to have any bloodline that they recognized as. True that Rakuyo, the Seventh Division Commander, informed to every willing ears that he had a newborn son from a woman on a island he'd been visited routinely. But being a Daddy with having child and being a Daddy with actually _taking__care_ of the child were two different things. No way in Hell they would put their little Marco under the custody of a man whose having a spiky-giant-chomping-ball-thingey as weapon.

"Yes… I'm sorry…" Namur was about to reach the point where he could cry any moment. Regrets painted his sharky-face. How could he let that itty-bitty fluffy puffy little thing which was Marco out of his sight?

"You know there are lots of dangerous stuffs on board. Cannon, artillery room with barrels of explosive powder, pointy objects, flammable objects, et cetera", Whitebeard kept his scolding.

Namur felt he was shrinking under that golden, piercing eyes' gaze.

"Yes… I'm sorry…"

"And you know that we have a Devil Fruit in our latest loots. What if Marco mistook it as normal fruit and eaten it?"

"Yes… I'm very very sorry…" Namur held a faint whimper, lowering his head even more.

"Stop teasing him, Pops. Marco's in the orlop", Thatch snapped as he casually walked to his captain's side.

"Oh, you found him already?" Whitebeard straightened himself on his seat and turned to his Fourth Division Commander.

"Aye. On the way to fetch him now", the pomp man grinned. "Anyways, I'll do what necessary. Please be cooperate."

With that, he walked away.

•

The orlop had always been dark, wet, and smelly —combination of the reek of dead rats, rotten veggies from months ago, rum, vomit, piss, salty water, and anything unimaginable. In a large pirate ship like Moby Dick, the orlop was unusually large and divided into few sections —stuffed full to the ceiling with crates, barrels, et cetera, and usually (a bit) cleaner. It was the perfect place to hide.

Darkness would never be a problem for Thatch. Even before he had given the ability to control the gravity inside his darkness, he acted naturally in the dark like a cat. Even if he couldn't see perfectly in the dark, he could move without bumping into anything.

Loud creaky noise echoed when he opened the door. Couples of rats jumped out, running almost frantically passing his feet. He raised the lantern in his hand as he walked into the orlop. From what he thought, Marco was confused, frightened, and clueless; but not stupid. He might used the hide-and-seek play as a chance to slip away from his watchers' sight.

From what Thatch remembered, his childhood friend had always liked dark, enclosed room with lotsa stuffs which he could hide on it. Marco had always been smaller than Thatch since they were very young, so the hiding place was just perfect for him. Come to think of it, it just similar with birds using empty building to nest. Maybe it was Marco's avian's instinct?

Thatch slapped himself mentally three times. He must remember that Marco is a freaking _phoenix_, not some kind of crows or pigeons.

"Game's over, boy. Don't make me drag you out", the pomp man said, not-so threateningly. He didn't want Marco to be more frightened as he was.

He sharpened his ears and caught a very faint 'eep' from the furthest corner. Soon, after several of rustles, Marco popped out from behind the stack of crates and walked slowly, very slowly, to the taller man. The little boy was a bit shaky, obviously still frightened to death. His tiny pouty lips quivered, but no sound came out.

The pomp man crouched to the boy's eye level, grinning apologetically.

"Our captain thought that we carried you by mistake when we docked at our last trip", he started. "So, he told us to put you back on your place."

The boy looked at the man almost disbelievingly.

"Sooooo, ain't you happy you'll meet again with Thatch?" Thatch was about to give the boy a pat on the shoulder. But the little Marco was faster for his age —hopping backwards, he threw his best threatening glare to the pirate.

Thatch blinked.

"You're lying", the boy stated.

"H-huh?" Thatch's eyes widened. His fingers twitched in the air.

"You're lying! This is very very VERY FAR away from my place! The air's different!" the little boy screamed. Thanks to their location on the very lower level of the ship, no one would hear his scream.

And damn this boy —was that also his avian's instinct?

Still gaped from his shock, Thatch put a hand over his own lips, contemplating. What should he say? That this boy was actually a 44 years old _ossan_ and not a 4 years old toddler? Like hell he would believe it!

"It's not a lie", he stated firmly, trying to look believable from this kid's eyes. "You can ask my captain that we're really trying to get you back."

Okay, the fact: they were really trying to get Marco back to his right age. But he didn't need to say that.

"A pirate ship is dangerous for a kid like you. We're pirates, yes, but not heartless gits to let you die in sea battle on our board or some stuffs like that."

The little boy shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

"No worries", the older man grinned. "We'll gonna take good care of you. Tho' some of us are loons, don't mind it. There'll be fun when you're on board of Whitebeard Pirates."

"O-okay…" the boy looked up to Thatch. He seemed to start trusting.

"Let's go", Thatch offered a hand, which the boy grabbed with his shaky hand. Both of them walked out from the reeky room to the upper deck. "Orlop's not a place for kid's play, you see."

"So it's called orlop?" the little boy asked.

"Yeah, do you interested to learn more about ship?" Thatch asked back, musing in his head. He remembered the younger Marco was an energetic kid made of curiosity. That would be two-handful for sure.

"Well… maybe."

"Then I think I'll tell you more."

"Okay."

•


	5. Big Brothers and Marco

**I… I can't. Plot bunnies are just being… EVERYWHERE. *headlaptops***

**Also, I want to say that, thank you very much for reading my fic and even troubling to add it to your favorite story, to subscribe, and even to review it.**

**Trich (your penname reminds me of my old laptop… /CRIES ): Well, in that case, I'm afraid you have to find it yourself at Pixiv ^ ^ You can use tag **子マルコ**(Little Marco) or just **マルコ**.**

—

**Chapter 5: Big Brothers and Marco**

.

Thatch was just being right about the little Marco was a ball contained of energy and curiosity.

the little boy asked about every single goddamn thing that presented just before his eyes. The every single doors on the ship, the galley, the mess hall, the differences of each decks, the mechanism, the toilet, and many more the little boy'd stumbled into.

Even when Thatch brought him to the upper deck where it was open to the weather, the questions became even more various. After Thatch explained descriptively about the masts, the crows' nest, the anchor, the difference of starboard and port, the rudder, the wheel, the sails, even went further to explain why it called Moby Dick and why the figurehead was a white sperm whale; the boy didn't stop there. He kept pointed his tiny forefinger while asking about small things. Is the ship has three masts or four masts. Why the wheel on the frontside can control the rudder on the backside of the ship. Why it called Whitebeard Pirates while the captain Whitebeard does not owns white beard but has white moustache.

Though it brought snickers and giggles among the crews, Whitebeard didn't find the last question funny —instead, it was irksome.

Later Thatch found out that the boy was trying to distract him with questions.

The pomp man realized after the long lecture about the ship (and the crews) that the little Marco hadn't yet to eat his breakfast. But since it was already nearing lunchtime, Thatch decided he would give Marco brunch instead. So he went to the kitchen and snagged a bowlful of fish cream soup from the boiling pot his division crewmembers had been working at for lunch. Not to forget, he also heated a bottle of milk from fridge —it was kept frozen to keep fresh as they usually spend days to reach the next island. Satisfied with the warm food at his both hands for the little boy, he went up to the upper deck whistling.

This when things he hadn't prepared of happened.

"M'not hungry", Marco stated in a flat-tone.

"Sure you not. Now open your mouth", Thatch spooned the soup, ready to feed the little boy.

But Marco put two hands over his mouth and shaking his head firmly, obviously rejecting.

"Thatch said I can't eat from stranger's hand", the boy said in muffled voice. His wide eyes stared innocently at the older pirate.

He forgot that Marco used to _praise_ him like a God back then when they were kids, thanks for their age difference which made Thatch about two years older than Marco. Sadly, it stopped when the phoenix-transformation user showed a huge leap in the term of fighting, leaving the non-Devil Fruit user behind. His Zoan ability obviously had increased his power and endurance. Not to add the regeneration ability which was near-invincible, making it possible for Marco to stop a cannonball on its track when he stepped age sixteen.

The struggle kept on for almost a half hour as Thatch used almost every single possible way to feed the little boy. Bribe, promise, threat, even food-tasting it. None working. The pomp man thought maybe the boy was just being shy, felt that he's a big guy now thus embarrassed for being fed just like another kids do —so he left the bowl right on its place so Marco can eat by himself and watched intensely from far away.

Still, not working.

Gritting his teeth, Thatch thought another possible way so Marco would touch the food. He was way too focusing as he watched the little boy from behind the wall.

When a hand touched his shoulder, he shrieked pansily.

"What are you doing?" Ace, holding a mop in one hand and meat chunk in the other hand, asked almost innocently, oblivious that he almost made the older man died for heart attack. Thatch grabbed the young teen's shoulder, whose blinked blankly, and nudged him to see the little Marco sitting calmly under the foremast's shadow, meters apart.

"He refused the food, so I think this way'll work", the Fourth Division Commander hissed. Ace threw him an understanding look, before laughing lightheartedly.

"What? Only that?" the Second Division Commander boasted. "Just let him do as he likes. He'll eat when he's hungry."

As Ace walked away, Thatch couldn't help but worry even more.

•

Tiny hands clamped on the stomach, as he was walking around almost cluelessly. He was hungry, yes. But he didn't want Thatch to scold him if he gotta eat from stranger. He didn't want Thatch to scold him.

His stomach started to rumble. Tiny feet wobbled before giving up, unable to prop his own weight. Sighing, he flopped to the bed, facing up the sky.

Why would he get stranded here in the first place? A pirate ship, on the top of that. He didn't know these guys and they were all weird looking _ossan_, but they seemed nice to him. There was that weird haired _ossan_, who just happened to be named Thatch too, and that sharky _ossan_.

Tall figure shadowed over his little one. He blinked. Messy black hair and freckled face grinning in his sight.

"There, little guy. You seemed troubled", the teen said.

"Mmmh…" Marco replied uninterestedly. He rolled aside. He just wanted to get some sleep.

But the older teen seemed to ignore is disinterest. He poked to the little boy's puffy cheek, trying to gain his attention.

"I'm hungry", Marco stated. Ace raised an eyebrow.

"Then why don't you eat the food my friend gave to you?"

"Thatch said I can't eat something from stranger. It might be poisoned…" the boy looked aside, uncertain himself. The answer made the black haired teen to laugh lightheartedly. He crouched next to the little boy.

"Why would we poison a little guy like you?" Ace asked.

"I dunno… Adult stuff?"

Ace chuckled with the answer the boy gave. The boy, the fire logia user thought, made him remember about the little Luffy he used to be. Just like Luffy, Marco seemed to be extremely attached to Thatch when he was younger. It also made him curious, what kind of past the First Division Commander had? Then he just realized it that he knew nothing about Marco.

"The other guys are done with scrubbing decks now, so they probably are fishing on the rear deck. Wanna come?"

The boy gave Ace a weak nod. But when the older teen was trying to swoop him from the wooden deck, Marco gave a struggle so Ace had to put him down.

"Can walk…" the boy mumbled, but grabbing Ace's hand and tugging it slightly.

•


	6. Marco and Whitebeard

**Just saying, my final projects for this semester will come very soon so I can't update as often as I want. I think my mood goes down the drain with migraine, painkiller, caffeine, sweets, worries, and anxiety~**

**Thank you for those who reviewed.**

—

**Chapter 6: Marco and Whitebeard**

.

"How…" Thatch gasped, flabbergasted. "… in the Hell you can feed him?"

In front of him was Ace, sitting on the deck under the main mast. On his lap was the little Marco, crumbs dirtied his cheek around his tiny pouty lips, napping peacefully. Fishbones were scattered around them.

"I'm not. We're fishing together, then I grilled the fish he caught and he ate it", Ace shrugged, smiling and absentmindedly twirling his finger on Marco's blond strands of hair. "Simple."

Thatch's mouth hung open. Now this was something unpredicted. Who guessed that the stupid young rascal with fiery behavior (lame pun intended), raised by mountain bandits for seventeen years of his life, could actually taking care the little boy way better than the rests of the crew? It wouldn't be a bullshit now that there was an exact proof, that Ace was a good big brother indeed.

"No shit", the Fourth Division Commander still gaped in his utter state of shock.

"Thank you."

•

When the sun slipped to the west, Moby Dick anchored on the northern beach of the dry land, Kyoukajima, far from the town.

Usually, if they landed after the sun set, the pirates would rush to the nearest town for self-pleasuring. But considering the situation, it was kinda out of priority at the moment, especially because there was a Marine base stationed on the island. Even if that he was labelled as one of the Yonkou, Whitebeard didn't want to attract any attention and more focused to bring Marco back to his normal state.

This night surely would be dull, just as dull as the top of Squardo's head.

•

Marco woke up from his nap when the sky outside was already dark. He rubbed his eyes and recognized the room was the same room when he woke up this morning.

He hadn't remember when he moved to the room. Wasn't he slept on the deck?

He looked around. The room was empty and dark. The only light source was from the outside, the lantern on the corridor at commander's deck. He didn't notice it before, but the room he slept in was quite… astonishing. It was nothing like a room he imagined a pirate would have.

Two wooden shelves, stuffed full of books, towered almost touching the ceiling. Marco slipped from his bed, walking slowly towards the shelves. He couldn't read the texts and the books were mostly thick —and he bet, also heavy. Aside from the shelves, there was also a work desk. He walked to there and found some instruments he didn't know whats for. There was a ball, held by an arch made of brass. Looking closely, there was also some words on the ball with strange shape of reds and lines. There was also some ticking instruments, cylindrical instruments, and pointy instruments. With interest blowing up like a bubble, the little boy examined the instruments one by one.

Satisfied, he walked out to the empty corridor. The end of the way was pitch-dark, making him gulp some amount of air. It was like some kind of ghosts or monsters would pop in.

Odd. Wasn't it too quite? Just how long he slept, anyway?

Bracing himself, he tiptoed on the corridor, very careful to his surroundings. Sometimes he made yelps when cold night wind blew, caressing his nape like some kind of demonic touch. The little boy whined. He was scared, really scared. But he was also curious. Where the others go?

He found a staircase to the upper floor. The steps were high, just abnormally way too high even for normal human. Then he remembered about that weird-moustached old guy Whitebeard's size.

_Maybe this'll lead to that old man's room…_ he thought

•

When the little boy reached the next floor, he was _almost_ out of breath. Not only that, he was also hurt. There were several times his knees hit the wooden steps in order to keep him from falling free like a boulder. But his little feet kept standing straight as he swatted dusts from his pants and shirt.

Marco began to explore the dark, gloomy deck. There were only several rooms on this floor, even lesser than at the previous floor —the commanders' deck, he heard from that weird-haired _ossan_.

He remembered the weird-haired _ossan_ told him that Whitebeard Pirates had sixteen division, commanded by one of each sixteen division commanders. He knew about Thatch, the weird-haired _ossan_ which was the commander for Fourth Division. He knew about Ace, the teen with freckles and also the commander for Second Division, which whom he went fishing on the rear deck. There was also Jozu, the large man with scary face. Lastly he knew about Izou, Rakuyo, and Namur.

He shook his head hard. The last four commanders were a bunch of weirdos… and scary. He kept a mental note to stay away from them. As far as he could.

Anyway, if the commanders' deck was right below this deck, then he knew which way he was going at.

The captain's cabin.

He heard from Thatch, not everyone can just simply walk to the captain's cabin. Even not very much people visiting the deck, only the commanders. And at night, the only one who was allowed to visit was the first mate —which he heard was also the commander for First Division. The captain must be a very special position, the little boy guessed, so that only few people could pay a visit to his room.

But weren't that will make the captain lonely?

He walked straight to a large door, thinking that this might be the captain's room. The door was really huge. Of course, because he remembered how big the captain was. Carefully and slowly, trying to as silent as he could, the little boy pushed the door open. It creaked faintly, but he had no trouble to make it open wide enough for him to enter.

Much to his surprise, the captain was still awake. He sat on his seat, with his back facing the door. Scare swell in his chest, causing him to inch backwards. Maybe it wasn't really a good idea to go barge someone's room. Moreover if that certain someone overpowered his height about ten times.

"What is it, brat?" the huge man turned, now facing the little boy on the doorway.

Marco made a yelp. He was almost, _almost_, turning back and run as fast as he could —but somehow his feet nailed securely on the floor, making him unable to move from the place he stood.

"C'mere", the captain waved his huge hand. The little boy noticed that his voice was so casual, so… comforting? Why? He just caught someone barging his room in the night. Wasn't he at least mad?

But Marco had no choice. With shaky feet, he walked closer to the huge man. The equally huge hands lifted his tiny body and put him on the bunk.

Odd, Marco didn't feel scared.

"You have no bad intention. I don't see reason to knock you outta this room. Gurarararara!"

Wait. Did the old man just… laughed?

"Umm…" Marco shifted awkwardly. "…sorry for entering your room without permission."

"Don't mind it", Whitebeard laughed again, raising his hand that Marco noticed was holding a bottle. The little boy watched intensely as the old man glugged down the content of the bottle.

Once Whitebeard lowered his hand, Marco opened his mouth.

"Why'd you drink it? It smells like piss."

"It tastes like piss too", Whitebeard replied. The boy made unpleasant face. He didn't want to imagine how the piss taste.

"Why it so quiet? Where are the others go?" Marco asked again, trying to change the subject.

"Out", Whitebeard simply stated, before devouring more of the bottle's content, much to Marco's displease. The reek from the bottle was too overwhelming, though he knew he'd experienced the worst.

"Where?"

"To the town, of course. We're docked on the port now."

"Why don't you go too?"

Silent stroke between them. Whitebeard locked his gaze to his first mate for the first time, noticing that the man who used to be his second man in command was now a child. A fragile, clueless child, filled with innocent curiosity, just like what any child around his age do.

For the first time that night, Whitebeard noticed that both of the child's knees were scraped.

This made the giant man's feature softened.

"I don't feel like to", the old man resumed to empty his bottle's content.

There was another silent moment. While Whitebeard's eyes were still locked to the little kid on his bunk, Marco's eyes wandered around the room, noticing the objects that filled the captain's cabin. A map hung on the wall, a shelf stuffed full with books, a large desk that matched the giant captain's size, a treasure chest under the desk.

It didn't last long though. The boy's half-lidded eyes drooped even more as he rubbed them in sleepy manner, just about to crash at any moment. Whitebeard saw this, grunted, put his bottle to his desk, and scooped the boy gently before his tiny body dropped to the bed. In his palm, he could feel the boy's body tensed, but seemed too tired to give any struggle.

"Stupid brat. I'll take you back to your room now", the captain grumbled and stood on his feet. What he got as reply was a weak yawn from the boy.

•


	7. Marco's Archenemy Enters

**I can't be happier —just got a 70, a very good mark in my standard ;u; So new chapter to celebrate~**

—

**Chapter 7: Marco's Archenemy Enters!**

.

It was the second day Marco turned into a toddler. The missing presence of their First Division Commander started to become very clear. No birdy shrill in the 5 AM like it usually was, resulting almost everyone on the ship woke up hours late.

"Man, it doesn't feel like Moby Dick without Marco's around", one of the ship cook and a member of Division 4 whined while dicing the meat for breakfast.

"You _think_?" Thatch replied sarcastically. Waking up three hours late resulting him unable to fix his hair in his usual pompadour hairstyle —instead only simply tied it with a rubber band, to avoid his hair falling to his cookings. This made the Fourth Division Commander pissed to the boots, which could be resulting in one-day full bad mood.

"Just think like he's doing outside duty", he resumed while chopping the onions spitefully.

•

When both Ace and Thatch walked into Marco's room to bring his breakfast, both were gaped at the sight of the broken door.

'Broken' term could be really understating. In fact, the doorframe, even the wall around it was completely shattered in pieces —leaving a huge hole on the wall in replace of the door.

"Did an elephant broke into the room last night?" Ace mumbled almost absent-mindedly. A giggle came from inside the room had averted his attention. Ace finally noticed the little Marco was sitting on his bed, fully awake.

"White-moustached gramps brought me back here last night!" the little boy replied gleefully. Suddenly both Ace and Thatch got the idea on what happened.

The door was obviously unfitting for Pops' size.

Thatch made a weird noise as snickers when Ace trotted inside the room.

"Hi there, Little Guy", the freckled teen sat on the bed, his hands holding a plateful of curry rice. "Sleep well last night?"

"Un!" Marco nodded.

"Do you want me to feed you or do you want to eat by yourself?" Ace asked.

Thatch caught the little boy eyeing the food intensely, then following Ace to sit next to Marco on the bed. He laughed lightheartedly and patted the boy's head. "No poison or drugs, no worries!"

"Mmm… okay."

Then, to Ace's surprise, the boy grabbed the spoon and started to gobble down the food.

•

After the breakfast, Whitebeard himself was re-arranging his fleet's shift, a job that usually Marco's monthly duty. He put three commanders and their division on each paddle ships: Jozu, Namur, and Speed Jiru on the first ship; Vista, Rakuyo, and Izou on the second ship; Blamenco, Curiel, and Atmos on the third ship; Blenheim, Haruta, and Fossa on the fourth ship. Then Whitebeard ordered the four ships to sail separately as usual, to resume their journey and/or to distribute logistics to the islands under their protection. The exception went to the first ship which Whitebeard ordered them to stay alert at Fishman Island.

It left Ace, Thatch, and Kingdew's division at Moby Dick —plus the commander-less Division 1, that was temporarily under Whitebeard's direct command until God knows.

Just before each ships departed, Izou hopped to Moby's deck, holding a shopping bag in one hand, just right in front of Ace and little Marco. The little boy inched, hiding behind Ace while gripping the teen's black shorts tightly. Izou snickered watching the boy's cute wide eyes looked back at him cautiously.

"There, there, boy", Izou crouched to meet the boy's eyes level. "Lookie what I've got for you~"

The cross-dressing man put the paper back on the wooden deck and began to show the boy the bag's content one by one.

"There", he showed a tiny blue shirt to fit Marco's size now, with yellow sun smiling on the middle of its frontside. "Isn't it cute?"

"Mm…" the boy slowly grabbed the shirt, feeling the soft texture. His eyebrows knitted on his forehead, seemed as if the boy was calculating things.

"Wow, you actually think of these things?" Ace chortled.

"Because you guys have no idea about these things, heartlessly giving the boy your oversized, smelly rags to wear", Izou retorted dramatically.

"Because it's only you who thinks about these things. You have motherly instinct, anyway", the freckled teen jeered.

"Don't make me kiss you on the face with my _geta_, Ace~"

Then Izou bid them farewell, leaving Ace stunned on his place. After they sighted the four ships sailed away, Ace walked Marco back into the cabin. There were chores to do before Moby Dick left the island, after all.

•

It was about the time for lunch when Ace and his men headed back to the mess hall, tired. They just loaded the last crate of food stocks to the galley by Thatch's request.

Some of the members from Division 1 and Division 9 were already filled the mess hall. There, Ace found little Marco was playing with wooden blocks. The boy sat on the floor, his tiny hands were busy putting up the blocks into another. His cute face crunched as he concentrated to make the blocks stood straight —which was quite an impossible task because the ship swayed hard whenever the waves hit the hull. Ace let out a light chuckle when he saw the boy kicked the blocks out of frustration.

The freckled teen then strolled to the galley, where the members from Division 4 were busy preparing the lunch. He found Thatch's ginger hair immediately as he entered the galley which where the Second Division Commander walked his feet to. The Fourth Division Commander was seen washing the large pot he'd used to make curry for breakfast.

"Who gave him the toy?" Ace leaned on a shelf packed full with spices and herbs for cooking, eyes wandering to find any hint of the foods leftover from breakfast —or if he'd lucky enough, the foods for lunch that ready to be served, if there was any.

"Jozu made em this morning. And no, the leftover already went straight to Stefan's stomach", Thatch glanced to the teen. His eyes gleamed dangerously, giving warning to Ace to not touch anything. Ace bit his lips, fingers frozen in the air halfway to the cupcakes on the shelf, then whistling innocently —hiding his hand behind his back.

"Oh, that's nice of him~" the teen commented awkwardly. The Fourth Division Commander snorted in cynical manner, while washed the pot with hot water.

"Most of us have already hit the age to have some child. It's kinda natural to spoil the youngest brat on board", the older pirate yapped as he moved from the sink to another shelf on the opposite of the room where he put the pot there.

"Some words. You guys kicked me around", Ace faked a pout.

"Come on, big guy. Marco came as sweet and pure child. While you—" Thatch pointed his finger lazily. "—came with 100 assassination attempts to _our_ captain."

The freckled teen gave the ginger-haired pirate cheeky grin before he retorted dramatically. "Ah— A past I couldn't erase."

"Stop being dramaqueen" Thatch snapped back, shivering.

Satisfied pestering his fellow commander, Ace resumed his exploration on the galley. Some of the cooks were already cooking stuffs for lunch. Nice smells of spicy thing lingered in the air, causing the teen's stomach to grumble. He also noticed that Thatch had already proceeded to help his division members, dashing from stove to stoves so fast he almost looked like a blur of white and red.

Ace's most favorite part on the Moby Dick: watching Thatch cooking. He preferred to eat mud rather than to admit it verbally, but he felt blessed that Whitebeard Pirates could have such talented cooks on board. Having nearly one-thousand-and-six-hundreds stomaches to feed, not a moment they had to worry about starving.

"Now, if you mind, make yourself useful because you're an annoying useless thing here", Thatch waved his knife-holding hand.

"Geddit…" Ace mumbled half-heartedly.

"Oh! Please keep Marco accompany because—"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH—!"

Ace's steps stopped on its track on the way to the door. Thatch, along with the cooks, stopped working.

"Is that…" Ace's face paled.

"Yes, that is…"

Both Ace and Thatch rushed to the mess hall, which was already in… mess. Tables flipped, scattered, pushed aside and some left destroyed. But what brought to Ace's attention was the white ball of fur of gigantic canine on the center of the room. Tiny arm flailed from below the massive lumps of fur, struggling desperately.

"Oh shit— STEFAN!"

•


	8. Marco's Nannies FINALLY!

**WHOA. The longest chapter of all. This is the result of my writer's block, please forgive me for EVERYTHING. I supposed to work on my finals… BUT LOOK WHAT I'VE DONE!**

**Anyway, HUGE THANKS for those who reviewed from chapter 1: Magnetic-Paw, Shiary (7x), HeartOfNewcastle (2x), azab (7x), Society X, Alexsasha, Naomi-nami16, sadistic-ellie, BehindBlueSky, hilian (6x), Moonlight Calls (4x), Trich (3x), Hi Hikari No Kaze, and Jazzcat1231! Please don't think that I'm ignoring your incredibly nice reviews. It's just that sometimes my internet connection makes me unable to get through my message box thing ;w; BELIEVE ME! I STILL LOVE YOU! /end of caps abuse**

—

**Chapter 8: Marco's Nannies… FINALLY?**

.

Ace dashed straight to the giant white dog on the center of the room. Stefan, as the dog pet of the Whitebeard Pirate, was usually tame and funny. But it was also nothing weird when the dog ran around while destroyed things in process and tackled the crews flat to the floor.

Stefan's most favorite tackling object was Whitebeard and Marco. Though the giant dog's tackle would give no harm to the equally giant man, it was disaster for Marco.

It was still fresh in Thatch mind the incident just the very moment Whitebeard picked the giant pup out of nowhere and introduced it to the crews. The giant pup jumped straight to Marco and bathed him with drools. Even with his regenerative ability, Marco got seven broken ribs and broken arms. Thatch was there to keep Marco accompany on the sickbay for three weeks straight, listening to his traumatic mutters about how scary the dog was. A kraken, Marco used to refer Stefan as. A cthulhu. A monster from the depth of Hell.

Stefan would have recognized Marco's smell, despite his outer appearance as a toddler now.

Long story short, Ace had moved the dog's butt from Marco's tiny body. As the fire boy walked the dog out as far as he could from Marco, the little boy was still laying flat on the mess hall floor. The crews and Thatch inched closer to check the boy. Worries painted their face. The boy, apparently, didn't show any response.

Digging his memories, Thatch remembered that Marco used to cry a lot. Whenever he got hurt, whenever Thatch got hurt, whenever he got frostbite in the winter night, whenever he got nightmare. So yeah, it was kinda worrisome when the ginger-haired commander found the boy's lack of response. What could he tell to Pops —that his dog had knocked his first mate's brain out?

Eventually, the boy's fingers twitched and his wide blank eyes blinked. Thatch heaved a sigh of relief. He crouched next to the boy and waved a hand just before the boy's eyes.

"Hey little fella", he grinned. "You're fine?"

Marco gave him a weak nod before he pulled his leg and sat up. The boy sniffed his own shirt and made a disgusted face.

"I smell like dog", the little boy said out of cold. The comment made the entire mess hall bursted out laugh, but apparently the boy didn't like it. He lowered his head to hide his blush in embarrassment.

"Then wanna do a quick bath before lunch?" Thatch offered.

Marco raised his head a bit and stared back to him in curiosity.

"Will you help to brushie brushie me?" the boy asked —some of the girls in the crew made a choir of aww. Thatch ignored him and smiled.

"Sure. I'll brushie brushie you, how'd it sound?"

"Sounds good."

•

The lunch passed nearly without incident. The dining tables on the mess hall were already fixed, thanks to the hard work from their carpenters. The lunch meals were served without delay, even without the help from Thatch. Lastly, Ace had put Stefan under Pops' care. The fire boy went back to the mess hall after that to help the reparation progress —but shooed away because the carpenters knew exactly what would happen when they combined Ace, hammer, and wood planks in one place.

Marco had changed his cloth after the brushie brushie bath with Thatch —the ginger-haired commander silently thankful to Izou for buying Marco new clothes that fit his size. The boy had also finished his lunch, now he was nomming a chocolate cupcake Thatch had given to him for 'being a good boy'.

"Pops said the log pose maker have already finished to make the eternal pose we need. We'll embark once we got the item", Ace walked towards Thatch from behind, earning a faint hum from the older pirate. Ace inched closer curiously. Thatch was staring at Marco, resting his chin on the back of his palm, with grin plastered on his face.

He was watching Marco eating his cupcake.

"That's creepy, you see", Ace jeered while planting his butt on the chair next to Thatch.

"Tsch. You don't know the feeling of having son", the older pirate snapped back. Ace snorted, but said nothing.

Soon enough, Marco was realizing that the two uncles were staring at him and stopped eating. Blush spread up to his cheeks. He ate about three pieces of cupcake and was going to his fourth —seemed like some starving kid, huh? But what could do? He was really hungry, and these foods… he probably wouldn't see any foods as many and as good as he got on this ship, once he got back to the island where'd he came from, right?

"Why'd you stop?" Thatch asked, trying to hide his grin behind his palm.

"I ate too much…" the boy replied while putting his fourth cupcake back to the platter.

"Bullshit. You're very scrawny, kid. If you're hungry, eat", the older commander smiled. Ace snorted audibly while his hand picked a cupcake from the platter.

"What? You have problem?" Thatch squinted his eyes and growled dangerously, for both Ace's snorting and stealing the cupcake.

"What— nothing~" Ace formed his mockery grin on his face, successfully made the ginger-haired pirate smacked him on the face with today's newspaper, which the younger pirate dodged it with ease. He stuck his tongue out then turned to the little boy who sat, wide eyed, staring to the both men.

"Anyway, little guy, wanna go with me to the island?"

•

Happy giggle echoed in Ace's ears, as he walked to the town —with little boy which was Marco sat comfortably over his shoulders. Ace was glad. At least, the little awkward boy from yesterday, now didn't seem to show any uneasiness on his cute tiny face. At least, that what Ace saw.

Maybe it was his instinct as big brother to make little Marco happy and safe. Of course not as close as Izou, who seemed like a perfect housewife of the crew. But anyhow he knew how to make little kids happy _naturally_, without bribing with things like candies or anything. Ten years taking care of Luffy was not for nothing, okay?

The autumn wind breezed lightly, caressing both of them. It might be another advantage as a fire logia user, to visit any islands with chilly air on this Grand Line —where each island had its own climate. Ace heated his own skin so Marco wouldn't get cold. The town, their destination a.k.a the log pose maker, was quite far from the port, for about thirty to fourty-five minutes of walk.

Not every island had its own log pose maker, moreover those who could make eternal pose. It was rare item, yes. Almost as rare as Vivre Card, perhaps. A reason why they couldn't memorize every single island the Whitebeard Pirates had visited over the decades into eternal poses. They were just pure lucky to have Kyoukajima near when the incident —also known as Marco's sudden de-aging.

"Nee, Ace", the little boy suddenly spoke, caused Ace to fall from his train of thought, as they passed the shops' display.

"What is it?" the teen asked.

"Why you guys are nice to me?"

Ace lost in thought again. They were —all of the Whitebeard Pirates, the strongest pirate crew on the world, and the scariest of all— acting naturally towards the little Marco. Though it was… well… _natural_, it should be weird for the boy himself, as strangers and also the bunches of scary pirates were acting _too_ nice towards him.

"Really? Maybe it's because you're sucha cute little boy", that was Ace finally replied. The boy seemed to not accepting it, because then he pouted and continued.

"I'm not cute. Cute is for girls. I'm a boy."

The response made Ace bursted out laugh.

After few more turns to the narrower alleyway, Ace had finally arrived to the log pose maker's shop.

The shop was painted in dull green and moss green. The display window was dusty, just as dusty as the items on the shop's display —normal brass compasses, various sizes of globes, various shapes of log poses and eternal poses, and many more. The door squawked as Ace's firm hand pushed it open. An old geezer with whited hair was seen sitting behind the shop's counter.

"Um, hello", Ace greeted, tried to attract the attention of the old geezer, because apparently the squawking sound of the door wasn't enough to distract him from something he was doing. The black boots Ace wore stepped on the old, rusted woods as he came closer to the counter.

"Um, I'm a friend from someone who asked for the eternal pose yesterday", the freckled teen stopped his steps right before the old geezer's eyes.

"Destination?" husky voice of the old geezer asked back.

"Karasujima."

With a series of grunts and huffs, the old geezer stood up from his chair. Ace noticed the old guy had a humpback, perhaps from aging. Perhaps this guy was older than Pops —though Pops couldn't be a standard, of course. Pops' vitality was just too scary to be normal.

Wrinkly hands shoved a spheric glass, just in front of Ace's face. Ace blinked few times, surprised.

"Here. Three hundred thousands beli."

Still shocked, Ace grabbed the eternal pose. Eyebrows knitted together over his forehead. "We paid it yesterday. That… classy guy with marvelous moustache and top hat, he paid it."

Harsh laugh screeched inside the cramped store, made Ace's body jerked and his ears felt like deaf. For a moment, the teen scared if it made Marco uncomfortable and cry. But he couldn't see Marco's face like this —not when Marco on his shoulders, leaning face to the side of Ace's head. _Damn it_.

Just as sudden as it started, the laugh suddenly stopped.

"I know", the old guy snapped jokingly.

Ace just didn't know what tho respond.

•

When Ace walked back to the Moby Dick, he felt weird. Marco was silent all the time, made the freckled teen wondered if the boy fell asleep. This made him a bit worried, somehow —thought that something strange happened. Say it, it was his big-brotherly instinct. But he swatted the thought away and strutted all the way to the port where Moby was docked. Thatch saw him and offered help to carry the little boy on his back.

When the younger commander heaved the boy to Thatch, indeed Marco was already asleep. Both eyes shut peacefully and mouth hung open. The soft, muscle-less feature of his chest heaved up and down as he breathed in sweet purr.

"Aw, how peaceful", Thatch laughed as he carried the boy with both of his arms. Both commanders walked up to the deck.

"I dunno… I still think it's strange", Ace muttered as he put his hands on his baggy shorts' pocket.

"Strange?"

Ace scratched his jet black hair and made it even messier. "I dunno how to put it… But, don't you think he sleeps too much? He napped yesterday afternoon and woke up near-midnight, Pops said. He woke up late too today, and now he's napping again?"

"Doesn't that what kid do? Sleeps and produces drool?" Thatch's eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

"Well, Luffy's not —though true about the drooling part. Can't feel tired at all, he was", Ace shrugged. He remembered how Luffy ran here and there, followed him everywhere like his second shadow. Even when Ace was napping about a half hour or one, Luffy was completely awake, taking things to do anything to wake his big brother up.

"Maybe because it's _Luffy_, Ace. No offense, okay?"

"None taken and yeah, reasonable reason is reasonable", the younger commander huffed, then threw Thatch one of his serious look. "But now I ask you, did Marco sleep a lot back then when he was a kid? I mean— I know it happened decades ago, but try to remember."

Thatch scratched his shaped beard mindlessly. When Marco was four, Thatch was only six. But hell, seriously, that happened almost forty years ago. What he could remember that they were living as street punks before Whitebeard picked them from that hellhole. He remembered that Marco was a curious, little ball of energy, yes. But he was sure he didn't think about whether Marco slept too little or too much at that time.

So he shook his head, sighing. Ace sighed too.

"You can say I'm overthinking things, right, Thatch…?"

"Guess so…"

•

Ace closed the door behind him, the room belonged to Marco's own where the little Marco curled comfortably on his bed, inside the fluffy blanket. Thatch was waiting him on the hallway of the Commander's Deck, leaning himself on the wall. It didn't take long before Ace realized that there was the third person accompanied Thatch.

The captain of the ship himself.

Whitebeard.

The most upper decks of Moby Dick was built to have the size of every rooms, every hallway, every doors and stairways to accommodate people with bigger size such as Whitebeard, Jozu, and Blenheim —though there were doors and stairways that built for the smaller, normal-sized humans also. The point was, this arrangement was also made so Whitebeard would be able to check on his commanders' room in case any help needed.

"Pops…?" Ace blinked.

"I need to talk with you two." Whitebeard's tone was serious.

"You two, my sons, Thatch and Ace—" the large man huffed as he folded his arms in front of his chest. "—you think I can trust Marco's care into your hands?"

The question lingered in the air, before both Commanders' brain could process.

"Of course you can count on us, Pops!" Thatch laughed awkwardly as he raised his shoulders in the same awkward manner. "What's with the serious talk all of the sudden, anyway? It's not like a big deal."

This wasn't very like Pops.

"It is", Whitebeard cut sharply. Thatch shut his mouth off.

"Look at us. We're bunches of pirates —sailors, no matter what, are always rude assholes. Though Marco's now a kid, a kid is still a kid. A brat, should I say. I'd never liked any brats. They're loud, noisy, annoying demons from the Hell, a lump of drools, scary things. Now, am I exaggerating things?"

Ace's jaw hit the floor, figuratively, due to the amount of shock he'd accepted. Thatch was better, but he had the look 'I don't get this shit' face all over him. Pops? Whitebeard? The Strongest Man in the World, whose power was rumored to be able to destroy the world? Talking like this? If any of those three Admirals from Marine Headquarter knew this, they'd sent a troop of kindergarten kids to weaken Pops.

Whitebeard realized his sons' face and cleared his throat. Awkward, indeed.

"The point is, I had never have any of kids myself —_biologically_. I'd never taken care underage kids; feed them, bathe them, dress them, or buttwipe them. No one of this ships did too —that fool Rakuyo doesn't count."

The long speech made Ace lost it. He swore he didn't get any points here. Somehow he wished if his narcolepsy was _controllable_.

"But Ace, you had little kid of a brother before —you knew how to do it! And Thatch, you were Marco's big brother. Should you knew all of his habit things which I assume can make it easier for you both!" All of the sudden, Whitebeard beamed. As if he just found One Piece presented right before his eyes.

Thatch thought, this wouldn't be a good idea. His Pops being excited all of the sudden was _never _be a good idea.

"So, shall I point you two as Marco's caretaker —or should I say, _babysitter_."

Somewhere, someplace, wind blew and crickets cricketing.

"Gurarararara!"

•


	9. Marco's Nightmare

**Keep your porn stash away from your kiddies. I mean it.**

**—**

**Chapter 9: Marco's Nightmare**

.

Pops' words were absolute. You disobeyed him, you knew you would be in total deep shit.

At first, Thatch stated that it would be amusing to take care Marco as his personal babysitter. At least, he could use it for blackmail stuff once Marco turned back into adult. But soon he knew he would be in total deep shit once the sky darkened all of the sudden and the first rumble of another Grand Line storm fell to the sea. Yeah. They were just embarked about fifteen minutes before from Kyoukajima, and the waves were already half as high as one of Pops' tsunami.

It was Hell of rain cats and dogs.

"It's a bad omen", Kingdew, appeared out of nowhere, stated firmly. Thatch made the pansiest squeal seeing the other Commander stood by his side, as he tried to stand straight on the deck by hugging tight on the main mast.

"Even the sky does not approve us to break Marco's curse", the Eleventh Division Commander continued, and left.

Thatch cursed in the longest curse word he knew like a true sailor. He _always_ hated rain. Correction, he always _fuckin_ despise the rain. Rain made his hair damp —which was already in mess since he woke up in the morning. He didn't even get the chance to fix it into his usual pompadour style —resulted from waking up three hours late.

A very strong wave swept the deck, made him only tightened his grip to the mast. The salty seawater weakened him instantly —just in time, he remembered what the consequences as a Devil Fruit user. Just, damn it. Why did he choose to be up here instead in his own dry, sheltered cabin?

•

Loud, ear-splitting rumble woke little Marco up from his deep sleep. He jolted, the entire of his body convulsed. The room he was sleeping at was like in the world of black and white for the split-second as another lightning fell down from the sky. Instantly, he curled like a ball on his bed, clasping his ears tight and closed his eyes.

Scary.

Storm was scary. Thunder was scary. He was afraid the loud noise would awaken the monster under his bed.

Before, he would crawl into his Ma or Da's room, seeking protection from the monster under his bed. But no, he couldn't. Ma and Da weren't here. They threw him away, abandoned him because he had this weird ability. The Devil Fruit ability. Ma and Da were scared to him because he was the monster itself.

Whimpering, the little boy crawled down of his bed, wrapping himself entirely with the blanket. Carefully, he tiptoed out of his room. Silently. He didn't want to wake up the monster under his bed. The monster was always be there, wherever he was. Scary creeper waiting to eat him, that monster.

The ship swayed really hard, as if a monster wanted to turn the ship upside down. No no, how if that was possible? Would be the ship really turned upside down? He was scared, really scared. But who would give him that protection now? Thatch —his friend Thatch— wasn't here too.

Ace.

That big brother Ace could help him. He didn't know why, but he felt safe around Ace. Ace and his warm hand and lopsided grin. Ace was gentle. Ace was warm. Marco wanted that warmth now. He needed it. And dunno why, he also thought that Ace was strong —he didn't know where he got that impression. But if Ace was really strong, would he protect him if he asked?

He had decided.

•

The rain was a _serious _disaster.

It started with a faint creaking sound on the wall. Ace hadn't notice it if he wasn't lying on his bed, daydreaming. Don't ask what kind of thing he was daydreaming at. Anyway, as the storm got even stronger, the creaking sounds were getting even worrisome.

He knew Moby Dick was an old ship. Really old —Marco, the previous Marco and not the child one, had said that Moby Dick had served Whitebeard for decades already. But routine checkups had been held to keep their _house_ sailin' steady. They had best carpenters under the Division 13, under Atmos' care. They also hired someone from the best shipyard in the world to repair it annually.

But fuck, this storm was just _fuckin_ disaster.

Ace cursed on the top of his lungs, including the entire inhabitants of a zoo on it, when the screws spewed from the porthole to everywhere in the speed equal to gatling gun. Then the creaking noise became even louder and just in time, as Ace shuffled his ass from his bunk, the porthole bursted —carrying inside the gallons of sea water.

It was. Fuckin. A MESS.

Not wasting any seconds, he skidded out of his room, closed the door, and locking it securely to prevent the water flooding the entire hallway.

It seemed that he hadn't given any time to recover from his utter shock —as he felt something, someone, tackling him on the waist. Ace cursed real loud just when a loud thunder crashing outside —thanks God. Just when he regained balance, he came to recognize who on Mother Sea's ocean dared to do this.

It was Marco. The little Marco.

"H- hey Little Guy", Ace quipped, hands trying to pry Marco off of him. But no result —Marco clung incredibly tight it was as if he got superglued on him.

Another thunder crashed. Just Ace got calmed himself, he realized that Marco was shivering.

No way…

Marco… was scared of storm?

He just wanted to laugh real loud by thinking about it himself. It was kinda weird to compare the adult form of Marco and his younger form —toddler form. It was as if both were completely different person. Ace shook his head hard —that was people called growth right? Anyway, now…

He needed someone from Division 13 to fix his porthole —else the damage would be bigger once the water filled inside Ace's room completely and flooded into the entire Commanders' deck. The Commanders' deck placed on the second deck and quite far from the normal water level, though he couldn't guarantee that the place was safe because the waves outside could even swallow Moby Dick itself entirely.

On the other hand, he couldn't leave Marco all by himself.

Just in time, Thatch hurtled into the Commanders' deck, also wet from top to toes. His hair was a mess and he looked pissed, really pissed. In the other time, Ace would take his leave peacefully without even throwing a joke including about bad hair day. But now he couldn't feel anything else but relieved.

"Thank Sweet Mother Sea, Thatch!" the teen cheered. He couldn't move freely —not with Marco leg-locking him securely.

"Can you look after Marco while me looking for someone from repair team? The porthole on my room was broken…" Ace pleaded. Thatch threw him murderous glare, but his eyes softened when he caught Marco on his sight.

Thatch huffed.

"Sure. Let me", he crouched next to Marco, offering his hands so Marco could release his deadly grip from Ace's waist.

But Marco only tightened his clutch and buried his face even deeper onto Ace's black cargo shorts.

Ace gulped audibly seeing veins popped on Thatch's forehead.

"O-Oi, Marco… Listen, I have to do something. So can you let me…" the teen ended his sentence in low tone, as he saw Marco shook his head. "…go."

Thatch used to tell him, that his darkness was gravity —sucking everything inside like a supermassive black hole on the center of the galaxy. Suddenly, Ace's nape shivered as he felt the temperature on the hallway dropped few degrees, thinking if Thatch could suck in the heat on the hallway too.

The tense broke when Thatch huffed again and stood up. He rustled his own hair then Marco's hair. Ace stared at him, shocked.

"I'll call someone from Atmos' team. You take care of Marco", the Fourth Division Commander said, grinned lopsidedly. Ace grinned too.

"Hey, thanks", the teen commented. But before Thatch left, Ace asked. "Hey, can I sleep in your room?"

"Ace, I know we're close. But not _that_ close—" Thatch turned his head, grinned lewdly —faked it, Ace guessed. Thatch he'd knew was as straight as a flagpole.

"Just for a moment, till my room is done", Ace smacked Thatch's shoulder and jeered, then added dramatically. "You're my last hope, because… you know…"

"Another commanders' room are prohibited for you to enter", Thatch snapped. Ace laughed.

"Yeah. Booby traps. Anti-Ace devices."

"Don't forget kairoseki door."

"Vista and Haruta has it on their door. Sicko bastards", Ace snorted.

"Really? That our _Vista_?" Thatch laughed. "Last time I know he has electricity running on his doorknob."

"That's one year ago, man. I know", Ace said abruptly, wiping tears off of his eyes coming from laughing too much.

"We should form a tag team for the sake of pranks, buddy", Thatch smacked Ace's back before he turned on his heel and left. Ace stared still on his back for a moment.

He picked up Marco off of his feet —that because it happened swiftly, Marco couldn't do anything to raise up his defense. The little boy yelped, still scared. But apparently, Ace could see that he was calmed.

"I don't know you're a scaredy-cat", the teen sneered, grinning wide.

Pink shades of blush crept up the little boy's puffy cheeks.

"You don't know how scary the monster under the bed!" Marco snapped back.

"Oh, really? How scary it was then?" Ace carried the boy still as he walked carefully to Thatch's room, three doors away. The ship was still swaying like mad. It seemed that the storm hadn't show any sign to calm anytime soon.

"Well, it's black. All black", the boy started. "It looks like lizards, but bigger. And the tail's longer. The eyes are red. And when you're looking away, it'll creep behind you and eat you!"

That sounded like dinosaurs in Ace's head.

"Hmm, but I won't let something that big creeping behind me to eat me", Ace commented as he twisted Thatch's doorknob and kicked it open.

"You won't know. It'll be really, reeeaaally silent", Marco continued, looking sure himself. "When you know it", he whispered. "… it's already too late."

Ace laid Marco on the bed then lying just next the boy. The bunk was just about on the same size with Ace's own, but messier. Thatch, apparently, hadn't think to clean it sometimes. Ace picked few pillows for him and the little boy, before covering both of them with the white, fluffy blanket.

"Yeah. But now, you're safe. No monster creeping around on this ship. You know the captain of this ship? That big guy with white moustache?" The little boy nodded. Ace grinned, continued. "He's _scarier_ than the monster."

"Really?" Marco's eyes rounded.

"Yeah, really. I saw it myself, he shooed the monsters outta this ship! Those monsters were running their asses off, you know!"

Half-lie. Actually, Pops was the monster _himself_. But the mental image made Ace barely holding his laugh. Maybe few of his ribs just cracked.

"Really? Really really really?" the little boy was still at it. Ace nodded again, trying to look serious.

"Whoa…"

"Now, because we're safe here, do you want to sleep or not?" the teen patted the boy's head. He didn't want to take responsibility if the boy soiled his own pants from the excitement. The boy smiled at him, then flopped on the bed happily.

"Okay…"

The storm hadn't calmed yet. But few minutes with Ace giving the boy constant patting on his back and letting the boy to nuzzle like a kitten, the boy was already sleeping like a log. Ace smiled gently while fixing the blanket over the boy. It sure brought him back into his childhood memories, with Luffy clinging on him like this.

_Luffy… Hopes you're fine now._

•

When Marco woke up in the morning, the room was already empty.

Ace had already gone, and the ship had stopped swaying wildly. Nice, warm sea breeze entered the room through the opened porthole, along with the caws of the seagulls. The sea was calm. The ship rocked steadily by the waves, left and right, repeatedly.

Marco stretched his arms and yawned real wide. He felt relaxed… really relaxed. And hungry. Though that could be solved later when he got his breakfast. Just when he was about to crawl out of his blanket, his hand touched something under the pillow.

He blinked.

It was something… hard, and square. And there were three of four of it. Out of curiosity, he pulled them all out.

Those were books.

Marco couldn't read, nobody taught him to read before. But the books had colorful cover, so he thought it would be okay for him to see. He pulled one book and opened it, flipping the page curiously. But soon, he lost interest. _What kind of book are these_, he thought. They had girls on every pages of it —girls in very short dress, some of them weren't wearing anything. _Eww_. Who would buy books about girls, anyway?

Wait.

Girls had cooties. So this book… should be full of cooties, right?

The thought made the little boy paled. A book of cooties… under his pillow. So the monster under the bed weren't gone just as he thought. Yeah, who would do such nasty thing to him, aside from the monster under the bed? The white-moustache _ossan_ hadn't kick the monster under the bed off of his ship.

Screaming his lungs out, Marco ran out of the room, seeking for protection from Ace.

•

**A/N: Ah, Thatch. You're such a bad nanny. Keeping porns under your pillow is a big no no, especially when your baby brother staying over.**

**I can't believe I got 9 reviews from last chapter... ;w; Thank you very much for all of your support, but I can't reply one by one because my computer internet connection is a bit retarded. So I have to upload by phone oTL I think I'm gonna reply each of your reviews here.**

**Trafalgar Riley: Baby!Marco is super cute. But baby!bird!Marco is extra super cute XD /lolwords**

**Moonlight Calls: AAAAAAAAAA Yeah, I know, I made a mistake ;A; Changed it to 'big brother' already oTL Thank you for telling me ;w; Umm in my headcanon, Thatch and Marco are the first to join WB. Yeah, they're really old... Jozu is younger, but Vista is older. Headcanons /drylaughs**

**Rell: Little kids are scary. In one second you're playing nice with them, in other seconds they're attacking you XD**

**Hi Hikari No Kaze: Ummm... On the second thought, I don't want a betareader because I'm a spontaneous person. Like… suddenly I have thought 'I'm gonna update today', so I write. If you get what I mean… Uhh, sorry ^^;a**

**BehindBlueSky: My writer's block usually makes me to write something long but pointless and when I re-read it again, it makes me think 'wtf is this'. Haha... Anyway yeah, you may brushie brushie Marco. Just be careful, he's gonna peck your eyes out if he doesn't feel like it :p**

**Anyway happy new year! And happy birthday Ace and Oda-sensei!**


	10. Marco's Third Day On Moby Dick

**Double-digits chapter, AWW YEAH. 50+ reviews, AWW YEAH. Thank you very much for the support, dear readers, reviewers, and subscribers! /hugs every one of you**

**Bonus chapter will be coming SOON 8D**

**Oh and I edited this chapter a bit.**

**—**

**Chapter 10: Marco's Third Day On Moby Dick**

.

Ace was half asleep when Pops was calling the commanders of Division 2, 4, and 9 dead in the morning. He nearly crossed that line by sleeping while standing listening to Pops' words. Many thanks (NOT REALLY) to Thatch who had pinched his buttcheek through his black shorts real _hard_, he was completely awake —though in the end Ace hissed sharply at his big brother for the stinging pain on his buttcheek.

Apparently, Pops was talking that Moby Dick needed its annual repair. The porthole bursted on Ace's room was a grave indicator that shouldn't they missed. Whitebeard did mentioning about Marco's name but yet to complete his sentence when something —someone, _again_— tackling Ace fall flat to the floor, thus causing the great captain's speech to be on hold.

And _again_, it was Marco himself who appeared on the top of Ace's body, clinging tight.

"What happened to you?" Ace yelped. Damn. Who said little boy couldn't kill. Ace nearly believed that he was getting concussion here.

"There's monster under the bed, Ace! It's there! It's there!" Marco yelled back as he shook Ace's body frantically.

"What monster?" Whitebeard squinted his eyes, pissed for getting interrupted in the middle of his important speech. He threw piercing looks towards his former first mate, then to his Second Division Commander. "What is this about, Ace?"

"Look, Pops… When we slept on Thatch's room—" Ace tried to explain, while raising his head to awkward angle.

"HEY! No monster under the bed in my room!" Thatch interrupted.

"BUT IT'S THERE! It's there in your room, Uncle Thatch! It put cursed books full of girls picture on it under my pillow while I was sleeping! All of the girls wear NOTHING!" the boy yelled again, this time managed to spout the words with a single deep breath.

The deck fell into a complete silent for exactly ten seconds. Even the seagulls stopped cawing.

In unison, three heads turned towards their Fourth Division Commander in the combination of 'oh I see' looks, 'what the fuck' looks, and 'Thatch, you're dead man' looks.

The said man gulped.

"H- Hey, I'm a health man, okay! What's wrong with me liking porn books?"

Whoops, wrong argument.

"What is porn books?" Marco's voice, though faint in the whisper, still could be heard very clearly for the others.

Thatch planted his face, deep into his palm.

"ANYWAY—" Whitebeard boomed, knocked his bisento to the wooden floor loud —the wood cracked, causing the three commanders and one boy to flinch. Ace shoved Marco away and stood, followed by Marco that gripped Ace's yellow shirt.

Silent followed Whitebeard's word.

"Anyway", Pops repeated. "We're going to keep this course and do our 'business thing' in Karasujima. Once we're finished, we're going to sail across the Red Line."

Without much argument, the meeting dissolved.

While Ace walked Marco back to the boy's room, the little boy kept asking 'what is porn books'. Thatch followed not so close behind them, raising his head and praying for God's mercy.

•

Aside from the 'morning incident', the day passed rather without conflict.

The journey to Karasujima would take seven days —six if they got good supporting wind. Almost everyone, apparently, were eager to have their First Division Commander back. Though Ace had commented jokingly that this Marco was much more sweeter than adult-Marco, then made a joke about adult-Marco couldn't take joke well. He got a slap on the head from their very own captain, and after that, Ace was almost silent, sulking in his own corner.

After the dinner, Ace kept Marco accompany. While he was working on his daily papers —which ended up as his artistic way-out (in which means, yes, he was doodling the new bounty posters out of boredom)— the boy was playing with wooden blocks. But not until the quarter hour later, the little boy got bored too and started to throw tantrum. Apparently, Marco got bored because it was his only toy and, according to the little boy himself, the ship moved too hard he couldn't make good building with the blocks.

"Ace, let's play hide and seek", the boy whined.

Ace, putting the last stroke on additional stubbles on some random newcomer named EUST-ASS (what the hell of name was that?) and complimenting his own work, then agreed on Marco's idea.

The game involved Marco, Ace, Thatch, Alan, Kyle, and Hei —the last two was unwilling participants that Ace dragged from the mess hall to play along.

Alan was tall, skinny young redhead from Division 1 and the only one who presented himself to play the child's game. Back then in his hometown, Alan said he had four little brothers. He instantly became Ace's sidekick in the term of taking care Marco.

Kyle the blond, was grumpy clean-freak and an old member of Division 4. He was the first unwilling participant and kept yammering about how he needed to get back to the galley and clean all the dirty dishes. But Ace knew he had soft heart for the little Marco as he found the old man was letting the boy to lick the chocolate leftover from the pan after he made chocolate mousse after today's lunch.

Hei, the platina-blond hair crossdresser, was a member of Division 16 that stationed in Moby Dick to keep the contact with Izou and another Division 16. He was silent and a little bit scary in Ace's eyes. However, blessed as a little kid with almost no prejudice, Marco quickly accepted him as one of his playmates. Hei was the second unwilling participant.

"Let's do _jan-ken-pon_ now!" Marco cheered and raised his fist.

Marco got the role as 'oni'.

"Now I will count from one to thirty then make house while you guys hide", the boy explained the rule. The other adults just agreed —though Thatch wondered from where the boy got that rule, while Hei tried to guess what the hell the meaning with 'make house'.

Without waiting, the boy crouched down and closed his eyes. The others agreed that the game was started. So they dispersed to find themselves good hide.

"Ooone. Twooo. Threeeee. Fooour. Fiiive. Siiix. Seveeen. Eeeight.", Marco's voice counted. "Tweeeelve. Twentyyy."

"Wait, he _CAN'T_ count to ten?" Hei hissed to Thatch, as if blaming that Marco's only childhood friend forgot to teach how to count to ten.

"He's only four", the Fourth Division Commander shrugged, then ran faster down the stairs. Hei rolled his eyes, then hide on the Commanders' deck only toilet.

"Sixty-threeeee. Fourteeeen."

"WHAT THE—", Ace yelped. This counting could end anytime soon so he needed to find good place to hide asap.

Then he got the idea.

Turned sharp to right, Ace made his way towards the upper deck then climbed up to the crows' nest. Yeah, Marco wouldn't dare to climb up to find Ace here. Just perfect. When the boy surrendered, he would appear.

Yes, he hated to lose.

Yes, even to a little kid.

"Thirty. DONE!" Marco stood up.

Kyle cursed mentally on his hiding place, inside the closet nearby.

Then the little boy started to search around. He opened one by one the door nearby, laughing. Those guys sure hide really good, he thought. When he opened the closet door, faced the grumpy cook, the boy pointed towards him and yelled loud.

"Uncle Kyle, gotcha!" he cheered. Kyle grunted and walked out of the closet. He didn't mean to play along well, anyway. Sooner he got 'caught', sooner he quit the game.

Then the boy began to wander around again, opening door after door. The crews, having their room opened without permission, cursed in every variations possible while Marco was running to the next door, laughing innocently. Some of them popped their head on the hallway, curious on what the hell happened. Some of them walked out only in their boxers to watch the boy play. Some found it funny and they pointed their fat fingers towards the little boy and laughed. Some few even played along with the boy.

Finished with the current deck, the third deck, Marco ran to the staircase. Tirelessly, his tiny feet hopped in the longest range he could reach as he stepped down the stairs. But the staircase was old and the boy's loud step made wood broke. He lost balance. He rolled down the stairs with very loud bumping-crashing sound, then stopped when he hit the wall.

The watching commotion cursed as they saw this, and some of them ran to check the boy.

It hurt.

It was really hurt. He checked on his elbow and found scraped skin and blood. Blood trickled down his skin. There were three seconds of silence.

Then, the boy began to wail. Loud.

Thatch, luckily for being the closest to Marco, instantly kicked the door of the crews' wardrobe open and ran towards the source of the sound. He heard that crashing sound, yes, but didn't think the slightest that it was Marco falling down the stairs.

Breaking the commotion, he scooped Marco from the floor, whispering sweet nothings to him. Somehow he didn't matter with the boy's ear-splitting cry.

"Stop crying. You're a big guy, right?" Thatch said gently, while kept cradling the boy in his arms. The boy was still wailing his lungs out, but it turned into soft sobs soon.

"It's hurt…" Marco sobbed. More tears rolled down his cheeks. Thatch kissed the top of the boy's head to comfort him.

"Try to think it's not hurt, then it won't be hurt anymore", Thatch whispered. The boy nodded, sniffed few times.

"It's not hurt…"

"See?"

Marco sobbed weakly while Thatch carried him upstairs. Apparently, his wail made the others wondered and came out of their hidings. Alan patted the boy's head while Hei hushed the boy to stop sobbing. Marco realized this, and between his sobs, he formed weird grin —the mix of pain, cry, and happy.

"Uncle Thatch, gotcha… Alan, gotcha… Hei, gotcha…" he said.

"My, my. What a trickster we got here", Alan laughed. Hei snorted following him.

"It won't stop bleeding…" Marco looked to his elbows again and looked like wanting to cry again when he saw his blood —smeared over his shirt and Thatch's shirt.

"I'll get you to the doctor", Thatch promised. This made the boy whimpered.

"No…"

Thatch blinked. "Why?"

"Because the doctor will give me yucky pills…" Marco stated.

Thatch had to resist the urge to snort loudly, before then he remembered that at age three-and-seven-months, Marco used to get very ill so Thatch had to bring him to the hospital. The medicines he got spent all the money Thatch stole, but after that Marco stopped to drink it 'because it tastes nasty'. It needed every persuasion skill Thatch got to make his little brother to finish his meds.

"You don't need to drink pills to stop your bleeding", Thatch chortled. "You just need to rest tonight. How's that sound?"

"Mmm…"

•

**OMAKE:**

Ace waited and waited for thirty minutes straight, but there was no sign if Marco had surrendered. He kept waiting and waiting, but his stubbornness made him refuse to climb down the rope nets to see if the game was still on. As the sky darkened and the first party of the night was thrown —the Whitebeard Pirates always held party for daily basis on _any_ reasons (or no reason at all)— Ace got his narcolepsy fit and slipped into slumber.

The next morning, he climbed the rope nets confusedly and reached the first bathroom purely using his instinct.

What he saw on the mirror, was something… _nasty_. He got bug bites all over his freckled cheeks, his face and any of his uncovered skin —which was literally, almost every part of his skin. It was red. And bumpy. And _really_ ugly.

He screamed.

•

**A/N: This chapter is inspired by the kids in my neighborhood. It's really fun to watch them play hide and seek, especially if the one who have to find other players can't count hahahah.**

**I always love bromance with a little gayness added, in case you don't know. I just love Thatch pretends to be gay with his gay jokes, but remember on chapter nine when Ace described him 'as straight as a flagpole'. Just, thanks heaven he has girl porns and not gay porns or our little Marco will be damaged mentally forever /SNORTS**

**Anyway a bit rant: I don't know why people keep thinking that Marco is about the same age with Ace. Marco was fuckin there when Shiki visited Whitebeard two years after Roger's execution, and Ace was probably two years old at the same time. Or if you don't watch Eps 0, read one of Fishman Island chapter. Marco was there when Whitebeard claimed Fishman Island over than twenty years ago. Keep it straight, dammit. Unless, that's his identical relations or father.**

**—**

**Rell + FlyingMonkiesAttack: Thach has porns is a must. I always think that Marco is serious big brother, Ace is derpy little brother, and Thatch is the pervert one. Oh, did I said that? NEVERMIND 8D**

**Hilian + azab: Monster under the bed… maybe it looks like Drake's zoan version? T-Rex lol. Hili dear, you're fuckin high. Go lay down.**

**Shiary: It's possible, though I doubt he'll do that. Oceans' full of monsters, that's what Thatch said to him when they're kiddies. Yeah /shrug**

**Moonlight Calls: You can have them all BUT THATCH. Thatch is my husband /:U**

**Jazzcat1231: HAPPY NEW YEAR TOO 8D**

**G: Ahaha thank yooou~**


	11. Marco's Fourth Day

**Chapter 11: Marco's Fourth Day or The Fuckin' Disaster Begins**

.

The next day, it was the beginning of disaster.

Thatch was accompanying Marco for breakfast when the first scream of the day was heard. Both jolted —Thatch spurted his morning coffee with rum. Awkward silent followed, before then the other crews gathered in the mess hall murmured, speculating things like a bunch of gossiping girls.

"It sounds like Ace…" the little boy commented with cheeks puffed, full with his breakfast (fried rice and beef slices).

"Let him be", Thatch grumbled while ungracefully wiping his lips and chin. "He did stupider things before."

No one knew, but apparently Thatch was fuckin' _pissed_ for Ace because the young pirate did not appear for dinner last night —hence made the foods, lotsa foods, became waste.

•

After the breakfast, Ace was nowhere to be found. So Thatch walked Marco to the upper deck to play after he gave several instructions to his cooks to clean the mess after the breakfast.

He left the galley with the cooks' raging yell behind him. Understandable, as the said 'mess after breakfast' meant that the mess hall turned into a wreck. Pile of dirty tablewares piled up high to the ceiling. Food splattered everywhere —under the table, on the table, on the bench, on the ceiling (only God knows how it reached there). The mixture of juice, coffee, tea, rum, wine, and anything drinkable covered almost every part of the wooden floor. It was hell of the work, indeed. And Thatch was running away.

"What we're gonna play?" the little boy asked as he hopped from one step to another as he climbed up the stairs. "Tic-tac-toe? Hopscotch?"

"Eh, I dunno…" Thatch admitted awkwardly. He held the boy's hand tight so the boy wouldn't slip and fall down the stairs like the last time. Marco still had those band-aids covering his elbows and knees, where he got bled yesterday. Thatch threw a glance to the band aids, silently wondering why Marco couldn't use his healing magic.

On the upper deck, bunches of pirates were busy scrubbing the deck with soapy brush —though, actually, most of them were slacking off by playing swords with sticks and buckets. Some more serious group sitting on the deck, tying and tightening the rope nets to prevent it from breaking. They saw Thatch and Marco passed by and threw them salute. Thatch saluted them back, and Marco waved energetically like a healthy boy he was.

"Why are they saluting me?" Marco asked as they walked away.

"Really? Must be your imagination —they are saluting _me_", Thatch mumbled not very clearly.

"So what are we gonna do?" Thatch asking.

"Ummm…" Marco hummed and looked around, as if he was looking for some inspirations. Thatch waited patiently, though he had to hold the urge to snort as the little boy's face scrunched in concentration. "Let's play pirate!"

The man raised his eyebrows' high for the boy's idea. It was actually innocent idea —and funny, because they were actually… well, _pirates_.

Thatch was about to retort back before his words were cut by another uninvited participant.

"I wanna play too!" Ace's voice beamed. The older commander turned his head backwards and saw the younger teen stood behind him as if he was popped out of nowhere.

"Ace?" Thatch yapped, blinking confusedly. "What's wrong with your f—"

"Mention it, I swear I'll burn your hair", Ace hissed venomously before both his tone and expression turned one-eighty. "So, can I play along~?"

"Sure!" Marco, left almost forgotten, replied in cheerful giggles. His forefinger pointed straight to the place where supposedly to be Ace's face. "Big brother Ace, do you know that your face is—"

Thatch yelped and slapped his hand to shut Marco's mouth. The boy fought back by wiggle-waggled and slapped Thatch's much bigger hands by his own tiny hands. He won the fight, however, and Thatch screaming his lungs out as he felt pain stung at the place where Marco bit him mercilessly.

Ace chortled and crouched in front of them both.

"Good job, boy", the freckled teen patted Marco's head. Thatch glared with disbelieving looks in his eyes.

"I can't believe you've become a bully replacing M—" he yelped, but stopped halfway, throwing quick glances to Marco before glared back to Ace. "—HIM! A-aren't we… I- I _was_ considering you as my partner-in-crime! HEY, PORTGAS D. ACE— I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

The older commander rushed towards Ace, who was already halfway to the rear deck with Marco —blatantly ignoring Thatch's overdramatic words.

Long story short, Marco was given name Captain Pineapple (Thatch's idea, of course), the ferocious pirate captain of Pineapple Pirates. Ace, played as Captain Pineapple's first mate, helped the little boy with the eyepatch and captain's jacket given by Thatch. Thatch himself had taken the liberty as Admiral Pompadour from Marine Headquarter. He came with a Marine higher-ups' fancy coat complete with its tassels and calligraphy of 'Justice' embroidered on its back —only God knows where he got the coat and why he decided to keep it.

"So, we start now?" Ace chirped happily as he clapped his hands.

Thatch was about to reply when the navigation room's door kicked open in very loud bam. Dozen of heads turned sharply straight in one unison. Gill, one member of the Division 5 of navigation division, was seen breathing hard and screamed his lungs out.

"STORM FACE COMING FROM TWO O'CLOCK! MOVE YER ASS YOU BRATS!"

By hearing this, all crews on the deck quickly scattered like ants whose nest destroyed. Smaller crews from lower rank hurriedly climbed up the three masts to reef the sails from above and knotted it tight to be prepared of the incoming typhoon.

"Let's get inside", Thatch hauled Marco into his arms, despite of the little boy's protesting whines, and walked half-running into the cabin. Ace followed from behind in the same pace.

Soon the cloud whirled into thick dark-gray columns in the sky. In a matter of second, gallons of rain water dropped from the sky. Wind howled like an angry whale. The wave, consequently, had rose frighteningly to the 'Holy Fuck!' level.

Thatch quickened his pace but it was pretty hard. The ship swayed wildly and in the consequences, crates of cargo and barrels of rum that kept on the deck were gliding dangerously across the floor as the ship tilted from left to right, making casualties to whoever got hit. Ace gritted his teeth —he couldn't use his fire because it would make bangs and booms pretty nicely against the rum. So Thatch gave him Marco so then he could kick and throw the crates and barrels away by using his black gust —while Ace, constantly, rose up his inner flame to heat up Marco's body. As they finally were safe in their cabin, they were drenched from top to toes.

Ace and Thatch were fine, but Marco —despite of the heat from Ace— was cold as ice.

"You're okay, little buddy?" Thatch touched Marco's soft cheek. The boy nodded, shivered. Thatch patted the boy's head, forced a lopsided grin on his face. "Great."

"We have to dry you and change your clothes —else you'll get sick", Ace suggested.

"And I'll make you hot chocolate, okay?" Thatch added. The boy nodded for both suggestions, still silence and blue pale.

Silently, he threw glances to his fellow-commander. Thatch, stared him back.

•

In near-panic, Ace helped Marco to change with dry clothes from Izou in his own room while Thatch rushed to the kitchen.

Outside, the storm still raged and Whitebeard's flagship swayed wildly like one of that amusement rides on the Sabaody Theme Park —only, with no fun. Thunders clasped repeatedly and sometimes, Ace had to grip on Marco _and_ something real hard because the ship tilted almost 60°. Suddenly, Marco's sweet lair became hundred times more dangerous; with little pointy objects like quill pens, sandglasses, globes, compasses and any other navigation instruments Ace had never known what the fuck the function were —not to adding with two wooden shelves stuffing Marco's room, full of thick-deadly books.

Ace was done changing Marco's clothes with a lot of efforts and sweats (from Ace), but the boy was still shivering. It was kind of disturbing as Marco that Ace had been know was kind of invulnerable from injuries and sickness. As if Marco's younger form was way too fragile. Like a statue made of crystal. For a moment when the ship wasn't swaying too bad, he gaped at the little boy's feature, unable to think what he should do next.

"Um… C'mere, let me warm you up", the freckled teen funally wrapped up Marco's tiny body in thick blue blanket and pulled him to the bed, hugging the boy while rising up his inner heat. He couldn't think of any other methods so he hoped that this would work nice.

Thatch came not very long after, rushing into the room with a cup of steamy hot chocolate in his hand and panicking. His face showed dreadful expression, as if he just saw something really horrible; like a friend's death, for example. Ace, almost flinched, gave him silent sign with his forefinger and Thatch trotted closer— hitting a brass instrument with his flailing hand and it spun three times before hitting the floor with three loud clonking noise.

Ace saw him hopelessly then glanced at Marco, hoping that Marco wouldn't wake the boy up. When he found that Marco was as silent as dead, he hoped the otherwise.

"H-h-how's his— c-condition?" Thatch stuttered, clearly seemed hard to form his words. Actually, his tongue felt like freezing.

Ace couldn't answer but his sight said 'see yourself' to the older man, looked equally frightened… and clueless. Something heavy blocked his throat. He gulped it before finally he could speak in coarse voice. "Why don't you call the doc?"

"I can't. Pops fell down…" Thatch replied weakly. "I- I told him that Marco is… a- and he- he suddenly—" the older pirate couldn't continue his sentence, but Ace understood from his defeated gesture.

Illness could be fatal at sea. Both Ace and Thatch knew that.

•

**A/N: Hurr… so I apologize for this (very) late update. I was a little bit too busy than I'd expected on my semester break and when I wasn't on my vacation trip (a.k.a stayed at home), I lost my mood to write.**

**I'm sorry that I can't post the bonus chapter yet. It's actually done long before, but when I re-read it, it seems… weird. So yeah *shrugs***

**Thank you very much for Rell, hilian, azab, Shiary, BehindBlueSky, HeartOfNewcastle, Moonlight Calls, G (anonymous), nestealove, and dreamwritergoddess for very nice reviews. I'm sorry that I can't reply to each one of you personally, but please be sure that I love ALL of your reviews!**


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